The Station of Shadows

The station hummed with quiet urgency. Passengers moved with the detached purpose of those accustomed to the city's rhythm, their faces obscured by neon reflections in the rain-slick tiles. The Drifter lingered, watching the figures ahead. One of them had left a trail too perfect to be coincidence. A rendezvous was set. A debt was owed. But in this city, where even the light had shadows, no meeting was ever just a meeting.